


In Which Warlock Dowling Escapes Hell in Several Ways

by abyss1826



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Child Neglect, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Found Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyss1826/pseuds/abyss1826
Summary: When Warlock Dowling is 14 his parents hire a body guard specifically for him. With his employers largely absent from the boy's life, Seamus McKenna is around for just about everything: creative misdemeanors at school, waves of odd hobbies, off-path treks into the woods, and moments when, if the man didn't know better, he could swear the name Warlock was more apt than could ever have been intended.





	1. In the Woods

Seamus McKenna was not an unusual person. He was 34, 6’3, and as imposing as one would expect from that information alone. He enjoyed challenges and strategies, kept to himself, and had good credentials. He had been in training with a few bodyguards already in the Dowlings’ employment, all who spoke well of him. He had been hired quickly. The specific Dowling he had been hired for was the fourteen year old Warlock. 

The boy’s parents told him it was so he could go places freely. He remarked, in the privacy of the garden, that he felt it was more likely they didn’t want him bothering them. When Seamus protested Warlock had given him the exhausted glare of an elderly man. 

Warlock did not have a schedule, other than waking in time for breakfast. He also didn’t seem to do much, and was essentially the lowest maintenance charge Seamus had ever been assigned. On the days he actually came down from the second floor he sat in the shade near the groundskeeper’s hut, knitting strange animals and humming to himself. Sometimes he would wander into the woods, or he’d go running, but he was fourteen and Seamus was a foot taller with strength training, so it was never difficult to keep up. 

"Do you think they would notice if I kept a sheep?" The boy asked. They had walked into the wooded area of the property, and he had climbed up one of the trees. There he sat, swinging his legs on either side of the branch, leaning against its trunk, asking about sheep.

"I'd expect the gardener to notice, and you'd need to pen her in."

"Hm."

“What do you want with a sheep?”

“Spinning yarn might be cool. I could dye it and stuff. Then I’d need to get dye, too. We’d have to think about winter….”

“Couldn’t you just ask your parents?”

“Nope,” he said with a casual certainty. “They don’t know my hobbies and I don’t intend them to.” Without warning he listed to the side, prompting Seamus to dive forward to catch him, as anyone would attempt. “What was that for?” Warlock asked, craning his neck to look at the ground. Seamus sat up. Warlock was upside down, arms crossed, legs curled around the branch.

“You were falling.”

“No I wasn’t. I don’t do that.”

“You don’t fall?” He asked, standing and brushing himself off.

“Nope. Fell once when I was five and broke my arm, so I don’t do it anymore.”

“That isn’t how the world works, you know.”

“It is if you believe stubbornly enough. That’s what magic’s all about. You _ make _ it work for you.”

“So you’re magic, now, then?”

“Yup. Nanny Ash was magic, and told me I was too. I think that’s how it was done, at least. Mother and Father sure have nothing to do with it.” Warlock bent up and wrapped his arms around the branch like a sloth. He then hung his legs down and dropped into a crouch.

“You’ve got quite the imagination for your age,” Seamus chuckled. Warlock sighed.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected him to say.


	2. Not in the Handbook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments! There is going to be a proper plot eventually, but first there will be a few chapters just of moments between Warlock and Seamus to build their relationship.  
Got to establish the fluff before the title starts making sense, ;)c.

Seamus had been warned by Warlocks parents that he could be... a trouble maker. But other than the occasional mischief he got up to in video games, the boy never seemed to do anything to warrant that.

Until school started.

During what was still lunch for Warlock, he knew, Seamus got a call from the Principal’s office. Harriet Dowling had, apparently, put him down as the school’s only contact during enrollment. The woman, not fit to have ever found joy in being a housewife or mother, was alone having tea on the patio. He breathed a terse sigh through his nose as he grabbed his blazer and keys.

“Mr. McKenna?” the woman at the front desk asked after the doors had been unlocked.

“Yes.”

She called down the Principal, a reedy, balding man by the name of Dr. Foster, who began his complaints before they even had a chance to finish shaking hands:

“Your boy-”

“-He isn’t mine-”

“Warlock is one of the most defiant, horribly behaved students-”

“-May we please get to your office before you begin your accusations?” He asked through gritted teeth. Dr. Foster, who was a head shorter and a third the width of the bodyguard, was intimidated into silence. 

When they got to his office Warlock was already sitting in one of the chairs. Sort of. He sat sideways, one leg tucked under him, the other slung over the other arm of the stiff wooden chair. His tie hung out of his pants pocket, his shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, and the shoe of his raised foot was half a meter behind the chair.

At least he was reading from his English homework.

“Sit up straight,” the Principal hissed, slapping the back of the boy’s chair. Warlock did not move, and instead gave the man a reproachful glare as he walked around to his desk. Seamus, who was beginning to dislike the man just as much, nudged the lone shoe closer to the boy’s chair and sat down next to him. The wood creaked so much he was surprised it didn’t break, or the arms didn’t give way to his size. 

“Now, what are you in for?” Seamus asked, watching Dr. Foster seethe out of the corner of his eye as Warlock closed Edith Hamilton’s “Mythology” and turned to sit impossibly cross-legged in his seat.

“Mister Warlock is-”

“I am asking  _ him _ to report the situation to me, thank you.” Dr. Foster’s face turned a new shade of red, and Warlock refrained from letting out a small giggle.

“Well,” Warlock began, once he had composed himself, “we have a free period before lunch, and it’s nice out so we’re allowed outside, and I just noticed that between a few trees and the old stonework, one could conceivably scale the building. And there’s nothing  _ against _ climbing school property in the handbook, so… I got to the roof, and then the bell rang, and I climbed into homeroom through a window, and now I’m in trouble.”

Seamus sighed, very slowly, and looked up at the ceiling. 

“He is being suspended for the rest of the day, and tomorrow as well for his disrespectful behavior.”

“What disrespectful behavior? He just said he wasn’t breaking any rules you put in the handbook.” Warlock glanced at him, wide eyed.

“Disrespecting staff, talking back to a teacher and  _ myself _ -” Seamus snapped.

“Was he talking back, or was he defending himself when he was getting in trouble for something that was  _ not against the rules _ ? This is a secondary school, is it not? You pride yourselves on preparing the next generation of adults?

“Y-yes?”

“Self defense starts  _ here _ , and when you don’t allow them that, you’ve stunted their growth permanently.” Dr. Foster sputtered, but Seamus went on. “Also suspension only keeps him from his classes. Have any teachers complained about his behavior in class, or just you?”

“No, no nothing has been reported-”

“Then he will be back to class tomorrow morning. We will get his work for the rest of the day and be leaving.” Seamus rose from his seat and Warlock quickly shoved his shoe back on, utterly bewildered.

“Why on earth did you do that?” Seamus asked in the hallway as Warlock hopped against his side, retying his shoes while they walked.

“‘Cuz I could?”

“Were you  _ trying _ to get into trouble?”

“...yeah.” Seamus sighed. He did that often, with Warlock around.

“Go get your things, we’ll discuss this in the car.”

“So. What were you trying to get into trouble for, hm? Miss me?”

“No,” Warlock mumbled from the back seat.

“Then what is it?”

“Mmtngetkkedot…”

“What?”

“I’m tryin’ to get kicked out…”

“Why in the Hell are you trying to that for?”

“Father bribed them into taking me in the first place, bribed my old school into keeping me and then letting me move on to secondary too.”

“Why’d he have to do that?”

“Shitty grades.” Seamus frowned.

“An’ why were your grades shit?”

“To make Father look bad.”

“Ah.” There was the root of things.

“Children reflect their parents, and I aim to reflect him  _ perfectly _ ,” the boy growled, raising goosebumps on the man’s arms. He shook his head.

“It’ll do you rather poorly, though, I’m afraid. It’s your reputation too. You can’t just destroy your life to spite him.” Warlock was quiet for a while.

“Do you at least agree with me?”

“About what?”

“Thaddeus.” 

Seamus thought carefully, and decided that being honest was more important than being professional, this time.

“I don’t think there’s a paternal bone in his body.”

Warlock looked out of the window and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read my other wip Breakdown in the Bookstore...  
I write One Warlock.  
Here, he is given a new parental figure.  
If you haven't read Breakdown in the Bookstore, well. There was no Seamus to dissuade his self-destructive revenge tactics, and I'll leave it at that.


	3. From the Basement

Seamus McKenna was not one to be suspicious of things. He was observant, as was his job. He knew everyone’s schedules and mannerisms and habits and was aware when these things changed. Every afternoon when Warlock was picked up from school he would toss his backpack into the car before he got into the seat.

So, when the boy did _not _do that, and carefully cradled it in his lap instead, the first thing out of the bodyguard’s mouth was:

“What do you have?”, in a tone of voice not unlike that of someone whose pet stopped chewing when they stepped into the room.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re hiding something in your bag.”

“No I’m not.” They made eye contact in the rearview mirror. The schoolbag meowed.

“Ah crivvens,” the man muttered, “What’d you go on and do now?”

“She’s been in the basement since it stormed this weekend,” Warlock exclaimed, leaping to his defense, “she’s so small her mom must’ve left her behind because I couldn’t find any others….” As he trailed off he opened the bag and carefully took out a little calico kitten. “Her eyes are still blue, but she ate the tuna with no problem so I think she’s almost seven weeks?”

“An’ what’re you plannin’ to tell your mother, hm?” Warlock gave the floor a very specific kind of look.

“She won’t notice,” he said, convincing neither of them. The kitten climbed up onto his shoulder and began to eat his hair. Seamus sighed. “I’ll set up a litter box in my bathroom with some newspaper and an old dishtub and give her tuna until what I order online comes in, and I know Father won’t notice any vet bills since his spending limit is so high-”

“-How do you know that?

“I have his debit card.”

“Why in he- Does he know you have his debit card?”

“Maybe,” Warlock shrugged. Seamus glanced up and thought a small prayer at whatever entity was looking after this kid. 

The look of complete surprise and joy on Warlock’s face when he parked at a pet supply store, Seamus decided, would be worth whatever trouble the little ball of fluff would get him in.

“Do you actually know what we need?”

“Of course I do,” Warlock huffed, “All I’ve done since I’ve found her is research.” The boy took out his phone, the sleeping kitten in his other hand. “I have a detailed list.”

“You really don’t do things in moderation do you,” Seamus sighed as he read the spreadsheet. Or tried to. It was rather chaotic. Structurally it flowed, but…

_Last edited 3:29 am_

The generous use of capitalization, spaces, and red marks made sense. Most of the items were standard fare, food, toys, litter; all specific brands he was sure Warlock had researched. He narrowed his eyes at one thing in particular.

“Guinea Pig cage?” 

“Good for introducing them to new places and keeping them out of trouble at night, can fit food water and a litterbox. She’s very small,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

“Very well then.”

By the end of it, the kitten was happily in a carrier and Thaddeus Dowling’s bank accounts were none the wiser.

“Oh dear Lord,” The security guard muttered as the youngest of the Dowlings walked in with a squeaking carrier. “What trouble is he getting you into?” Jameson asked as Seamus walked up with the cat tree over his shoulder.

“Well what’d’ya spect’ me to do? Refuse the lad a kitten? He found it at school and did research himself and evry’thing.”

“Ya too sof for this place McKenna,” the man laughed, clapping him on the back.

"Is _that _what you were sneaking around the pantries for?" he heard their cook exclaimed.

"She likes tuna," Warlock squeaked. The older woman tutted.

"She better grow to like mice, too, in a place old as this." Her sly smile told Warlock he wasn't in any real trouble, and he bounded back upstairs with old towels for the Guinea Pig crate.

“There you go Sister, nice and fluffy,” the boy cooed setting them up for her. The calico squeaked and awkwardly pounced the folds.

As gossip about the kitten spread through the house staff it became very clear to everyone: Harriet and Thaddeus would not hear about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warlock has undiagnosed ADHD and there's nothing you or Gaiman can do about it

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment! It really encourages me to update.


End file.
